


A Lesson in Pigeon Fancying

by astrocartographer



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: F/F, it's literally just saint being saint and my titan being a fangirl. idk what to tell you, listen friend. when you hold a bord. you must be very soft, saint-14 infodumps about pigeons, very gentle. bird is NOT like gun. you do not SQUEEZE., you can pry autistic saint from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:35:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22391119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrocartographer/pseuds/astrocartographer
Summary: Saint-14 gives some Guardians a lesson in pigeon handling.[a saint-14 character study, and also an excuse to write my guardians interacting with saint. short, sweet, and gay.]
Relationships: Female Guardian/Female Guardian (Destiny), Guardian/Guardian (Destiny)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	A Lesson in Pigeon Fancying

**Author's Note:**

> You’re reading about my Guardians, so here are some facts about them:   
> Parley-4: 7 feet tall, arc Titan. Works primarily for the Vanguard. Neutral good. Generally very polite. Vocal defect. Ghost: Periwinkle, or “Peri”  
> Riddle-3: 5’4”, solar Hunter. Not a huge fan of rules. Loves to run Gambit. Chaotic neutral. Has bastard Hunter syndrome. Ghost: Sidha  
> If you want more facts about them, check em out at toyhou.se/antlerlad !  
> also i didn't properly edit this. please forgive me. i'm just so excited.

“Ah! Parley! Just the Guardian I was looking for!” 

Parley positively beamed - literally, through her biolights, and figuratively through her smile - at the fact that the idol of every Titan from here to the Reef knew who she was. She’d talked to Saint many times now, and they’d developed a good rapport, but it still delighted her every time she saw him that he knew her and considered her a friend.

“Good afternoon, Saint. I -”

“And you have brought a friend!” The interruption startled her. Saint was normally very polite, letting others speak before he did. He seemed excited about something; he was gesturing wildly, even though he had said very few words thus far. “I don’t believe we have met. I am Saint-14.”

“Yes, I’ve heard.” Riddle’s optics flicked up to glance at her girlfriend, and a little smirk crossed her lips. “Riddle.”

“Pleasure.” Saint held out one hand and Riddle shook it, her delicate Hunter fingers absolutely dwarfed by Saint’s palm. His handshake jerked her whole body. Riddle was, uncharacteristically, knocked off-balance. “Now, come, come, I have brought grain.”

“Actually, Saint -”

“Come!” he ordered. He hurried into his ship, several pigeons in tow, cooing softly.

Riddle wove her fingers through Parley’s. A cheeky smile drifted onto her face. “Babe, let him fly. I wanna see this.” 

“I just wanted a bounty…”

“It can wait.” Riddle bumped her hip. “Let’s go see what he’s got.” 

Parley sighed a great huff through her vents, and followed the insistent tugging of her girlfriend’s hand. 

Saint’s ship was surprisingly spartan for someone who received countless gifts and accolades from fans and friends alike. Of course, this was only the entrance - there may have been more inside. In lieu of any decorations, the ceiling was adorned with hanging violet ribbons and the occasional long, black feather. One or two pigeons roosted in cubbies in the walls, along with Saint’s Ghost, Geppetto, who sat in a nest of blankets near the roof. She blinked at them as they walked by, greeting them with quiet beeps. Periwinkle and Sidha drifted away to go speak to her.

Saint wordlessly tossed Parley a sack of some mystery grain, and then lobbed a second one at Riddle, who caught it with grace. 

“As I have told you,” Saint began, his baritone filling the entire space, “when you hold a bird, you must be gentle. No  _ squeezing. _ ” He hoisted a third sack of grain into his arms. “You hold the wheat, you do not clutch it for dear life, yes?” Parley and Riddle nodded. “Pigeons - they are not very strong. You do not need much force to keep them from flying away. Let them sit in your hands.” 

He held up his burlap sack, letting the weight fall across his fingers. “Obviously, the pigeon will not be this heavy. But you look - how I let the sack sit. You do not  _ grip _ it, but restrain it. Like sandwich. Your sandwich will not fly away.”

Riddle snorted. Parley kicked her in the ankle.

“You laugh, but it is true! Come, show me how you hold it.” 

_ I analyzed the pressure of Saint’s hands,  _ said Periwinkle over their neural link.  _ Y’know, just in case knowing that will make you less nervous.  _

_ I’m not nervous!  _ She retorted, adjusting the sack in her hands. 

_ You know you can’t lie to me. I feel your emotions.  _

_ Shut up.  _

Periwinkle laughed and closed the link. 

“Yes, Riddle, very good. Hunters’ hands are very deft. Parley, you need to- yes, that’s the way.” The praise made her mood skyrocket. “Good, good. You learn quickly. Now -” He tossed his sack of grain away. “With a bird, you must restrain their wings, but not too much! They will want to leave, but you must show them you are safe. Do not hurt them.” 

Parley thought she might burst into flames when she heard her idol, the legendary Saint-14, hero of Six Fronts, make kissy noises at a pigeon. Riddle looked like she was going to blast off into space from amusement. 

“This is Bina.” He gently grasped one of the birds roosting in the walls and held her up, exactly like one would hold a sandwich. “She is very good. See how I have my hands on her wings, and let her feet dangle? Gives her some freedom.” He held her to his chest and began scratching gently at her neck. Bina’s eyes rolled back in delight, and she cooed softly. 

“She seems relaxed,” Riddle noted. 

“Yes. They do not mind being held so much, but they will let you know when they are done tolerating you.” Saint set Bina down on the ground and she waddled away, her head bobbing. “I will give you one of the gentle ones. His name is Fjord. He loves to be cuddled.” 

Saint led them back outside and reached for one of the pigeons pecking grain off the long carpet at his station. Parley found herself getting more nervous as onlookers watched Saint-14 present her with a pigeon. 

“Take him. Gently,” he warned. 

Parley reached out and softly grasped the bird, her thumbs barely disturbing his feathers. Fjord simply looked at her through one glassy pigeon eye, not seeming to care that he was being manhandled by a seven-foot-tall war machine. She held him like a sandwich, as she had been instructed, and when she had enough of a grip that she wouldn’t drop him, Saint let go. The bird was hers now. She swallowed, despite having no tongue and no saliva to do so with, and cradled the bird to her chest. 

“Very good!” Saint clapped once, the worn leather of his gloves muffling the sound. “Riddle, you will hold… ehh.. Give me a moment…”

Parley’s attention drifted towards the tiny life held against her chestplate. Saint’s fixation with pigeons had seemed strange to her at first, but now she supposed it made some sense. Saint was a protector, a hero, one who looked after others. Caring for creatures so fragile they could be easily crushed underfoot was in his nature. She did not, however, understand why he willingly dealt with pigeon shit all the time, nor how he kept his post so clean, but those were questions for later. For now, she scratched Fjord’s neck with a plated finger, admiring his shimmering feathers and pleased expression. 

Saint booming praise at Riddle snapped her out of her thoughts. She held a cream-coloured bird in her wiry arms, smiling gently at it.

“Not bad, eh?” 

“Not at all,” Parley murmured. It was then that Fjord decided that he’d had enough. He began to squirm, and in a panic, Parley let go, dropping him to the floor. She cursed very loudly and scrambled to grab him, but he merely extended his wings and flapped, gliding gracefully onto the carpet. 

“ _ Ha! _ He is fine. Birds are like cats. Drop them and they will be fine.” Though he was helmeted, Parley could sense a smile in his voice. “You have done well. Soon, you will have many new friends.”

“I don’t know if I want to acquaint myself with every bird in the City,” Parley said warily. 

“You would be wise to observe them. They have much to teach us.” 

“Yeah, like the simple pleasure of being held by a woman much larger than you,” Riddle quipped. Parley stiffened, and Saint howled with delight. 

“You are funny, Hunter. Parley chose well.” 

“You think I would choose to fall in love with the bastard who humiliates me in front of the hero of Six Fronts?” 

“Aw, babe. Loosen up.” Riddle bumped her gently with her shoulder, startling the bird in her arms. She let the pigeon loose, and it flew away into the rafters of the hangar. 

“Yes, you can relax. You hardly need to impress me, my friend.” 

A little warmth blossomed in her chest. Saint-14 was  _ impressed _ by her. She could die happy now. 

“Ah, you came here for something, yes?” Saint placed a giant hand on Parley’s shoulder. “What is it that you need? Aside from lessons on how to hold a bird?” 

Parley reset her optics a few times, her joy preventing her from remembering why she had dragged Riddle down here in the first place. “Ah, right. About your bounties…”

**Author's Note:**

> this is the most self indulgent nonsense I've ever written. god bless.   
> shoutout to this youtube video for teaching me how to hold a pigeon: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hp7qRTMzPqk   
> also, yes, the act of pigeon keeping is sometimes called "pigeon fancying." saint-14: pigeon fancier.   
> hit me up on twitter at [antlerlad](https://twitter.com/antlerlad) if you wanna cry about o14


End file.
